Lighting Items

A weathered old sign, but the bear's little face refuses to give up.

Everything's half-off, including the sign itself.

The campfire's younger, brighter cousin.

A loyal conspirator in Candlewic's ongoing duel with sleep.

Lit in honor of the forebears. May their stories flicker on.

Great found-footage lighting.

Spins dutifully through hot summers.

Less illumination, more emotional texture.

Cheers on your plants with its blinding rays!

Comes complete with eye strain!

Statistically, one of these contains intelligent life.

This elegant candle makes any table decoration look seasonal.

A little sun for the cloudy days.

Handy when the sun sets... or explodes.

A respectable second career, despite the smell it swears is gone.

This decorative gumdrop lamp can be placed on a wall.

Content to hum quietly through the night.

Its thin skin trembles whenever anyone closes a door too hard.

Perfect for that dingy atmosphere.

Brings the drama whether you're ready or not.

Still not as bright as your ideas.

Swings ominously when no one's home. Totally normal.

For lighting the secret passage to your basement dungeon.

For people who enjoy dusting at dangerous heights.

Turns every corner into a gallery—especially the one with the laundry pile.

Not technically enchanted, which is exactly what an enchanted lamp would say.

Once warned sailors of rocks; now warns guests of clutter.

Still smells faintly of salty spray and unresolved longing.

Still smells faintly of salty spray and unresolved longing.

Summon the wishes of Snadgers with this Harrowing Candle.

Glows like the last honest business on a very dishonest street.

Softens shadows without erasing them.

Turns ordinary hands into birds, wolves, and unconvincing rabbits.

Keeps the deck lit when the moon's bein' stingy. Yar!

A spotlight for your work.

Illuminates the environment via a consistent, low-heat glow.

Emits ambient radiance that feels curiously warm-blooded.

Contains bioluminescent particulates suspended in a viscous medium.

Illuminates everything except the one thing you're looking for.

Deeply nosy about what you're reading.

Shines just bright enough to spot the dog before you trip over him.

Its beam is merciless.

For when the night needs a little more magic (or visibility).

Tiny stars that wish to hold hands.

Moths beware.

Brings the charm of the bog indoors.

Ideal for late-night reading or quiet existential sporing.

How many can you light before it becomes a fire hazard?

How many can you light before it becomes a fire hazard?

Brings light, warmth, and a buffet for mosquitoes.

Brings the drama whether you're ready or not.

The perfect glow for secret affairs or light hauntings.

The perfect glow for secret affairs or light hauntings.

A faithful companion to late-night wanderers.

A star, captured and plugged into your wall. Highly unethical.

Less illumination, more emotional texture.

The kind of lights that encourage dancing barefoot.